I enjoy the art of bushcraft. Sleeping outside in the wilderness has a feeling nothing else can beat. Carrying into the woods all my primitive tools on my belt, etc. Building fires with nothing but my bootlace and a passion for flames. Sniping squirrels out of trees and cooking them over an open fire. Navigating the vast swamps in my waders. Rolling around in the snow looking at animal tracks. Orienteering my way through the woodlands with my handy dandy compass. Making camp contraptions with lashings and carving away with my hatchet, survival knife, swiss army knife, or Leatherman. Digging a pit to sleep in, or making a sheltered roof with nothing but the materials around me. Sleeping in forest in cold temperatures. Hiking through the mountains, and rolling hills the heat of the summer. Surviving from the weather. Surviving from the animals. Surviving from nature. Enjoying your survival. This is art. This is a lifestyle. This is freedom. This is happiness.
